


god didn’t create hope for sinners like you

by bluebirdskies



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 14:35:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1691816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebirdskies/pseuds/bluebirdskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>what we always want most are the things we can't have</p>
            </blockquote>





	god didn’t create hope for sinners like you

**Author's Note:**

> christ almighty i am not going through and capitalizing all these goddamn sentences i do not care  
> don't read this if you're not okay with bro's dick in dave's ass because that's about to happen

sometimes you wondered how he made your blood run so hot. when did your little brother go from just that, a child, the boy that used to weep in your arms, to this masterpiece, this perfect being that strode all about your apartment and haunted your thoughts. dave was all you saw when you closed your eyes. you saw what you wanted to do to him.

every time you caught a glimpse of his bare chest, you committed it to memory. you savored every time you saw a flash of those creamy white thighs or those hip bones that god himself had carved into perfection and you kept them all. tucked them away in your mind’s filing system and withdrew them later when you fucked your hand and wished it was his.

so when, exactly, was it that he changed from little boy to something more? sometimes you wished that it was only the lust, that you were just some sick freak instead of in love with a boy half your age. you had always noticed his beauty, kept an eye on it and watched it grow like lilies in springtime, but as you saw him become himself, crawl out of your shadow and take up his own hobbies and traits and personalities, that sealed the deal. you loved everything that was dave strider. he was what you had needed, what you had been waiting for all your life.

except that you couldn’t have him. that was the catch.

sometimes you would catch a peek of his eyes, those blood-colored windows that made him as readable as a children’s picture book, and wonder if he felt the same. wishful thinking, you told yourself, and you would let the guilt overtake you, gnaw at your insides like a parasite and slowly tear you apart. you couldn’t ever do this. couldn’t ever allow yourself to be happy, couldn’t ever give in and take that which you needed the most. it was your sin and yours alone and you accepted your fate.

men, however, are fickle creatures. and no man can resist temptation forever.

you tried to live in eden and resist this sin but eventually, the want just became too much. you cursed yourself as you allowed your eyes to linger on him too much and let him notice. you hated yourself when your fingers fell upon his skin and overstayed their visit, caressed too carefully, and you could feel his breath hitch and gooseflesh overtake his skin. it started with the feel of his hips beneath your fingers. it turned into a graze of his thigh while you sat beside him on the futon to grab the remote. each and every time the contact sent electricity running through your veins, overloading your circuits, frying your processor, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before you crashed altogether.

god didn’t create hope for sinners like you.

every time you see your precious boy you can’t do anything more than picture him beneath you. you know that you would fit ever-so perfectly between his thighs and that his sobs of your name would be a hymn to the god you cursed day after day for allowing you to feel such filth. you want him across your lap, hand falling hard against his perfect ass, white flesh turning pink, turning red, marring a beautiful shade and he wouldn’t be able to scream because dave, it’s impolite to speak with your mouth full. you taught him better than that.

you stew and you boil and one day you bubble over and can’t take much more. you’re shoving him against the living room floor and you’re all apologies as you kiss him. fire is burning in your blood and the friction of your hips against his is nothing short of vicious. you aren’t sure if his moans are of protest or pleasure but you’re drinking them in all the same and you’re amazed that your hands aren’t shaking when you strip him. you know he’s scared and you know you care but you just can’t stop. you’re worshipping the temple of his flesh with very kiss, every touch. you admire the bruise upon his collarbone that you made with your teeth and liken it to a jewel of the nile. your nails carve trails down his thighs, trails you plan to memorize and learn, every single last twist and turn. you almost can’t believe the way his body is reacting and he’s making noises that have you amazed you’re still able to breath. you realize in that moment everything you’ve been trying to hide from yourself for months.

all you really wanted was this boy’s love.

you have him bare beneath you and you know you’ll never forget this picture, just in case you never get to have him again whenever hell swallows you whole for what you’ve done. you let your fingers toy with every single part of him, mapping and exploring and unknowingly teasing and the whine that comes from his throat has you drawn, predator to prey, and you’re shoving two fingers in his mouth and two fingers in his ass because you can’t even try to help yourself. you aren’t sure what has you groaning, if it’s the feel of his perfect tongue flicking against your fingers or the moans he’s giving as yours curl and brush against the spot inside of him that has his hips shaking and tears welling up in his eyes. part of you wants to make him cum just from this, just from your fingers, but you know you’re way to greedy for that. you’ve deprived yourself for far too long and you are nothing short of desperate for contact.

you don’t even bother to undress, you just shove your jeans down enough to pull yourself free and slick yourself with a fervor you never knew you could even have. you pause again to take in the beauty beneath you and he’s begging for your touch, your kiss, your cock, and you know that he’s wanted this just as bad as you have.

seconds later you’ve got his knees by his ears and his hands pinned above his head and you’re cock is all the way inside of him and you barely register that he’s tense and he’s screaming because you’ve never felt so good, so complete, so perfect and loved and wanted in your entire life. your breath hitches in your throat and you have to fight yourself to keep calm and still enough to let him adjust to your size and you’re reminded once again that he was a virgin, wasn’t he? somehow you can’t seem to feel bad and this is just fuel to keep you burning bright and as soon as his whimpers turn soft moans all resolution breaks and you’re pounding into him far harder than you should but you can’t help it, can’t stop yourself, you just need this and if you don’t have it you’ll die.

you were already dead before this, weren’t you? a dead man parading about on two legs, playing the charade of a life.

you’re groaning and whispering in his ear, apologizing one minute and demanding he like it the next, but he’s got tears falling down his cheeks and he’s moaning then crying then screaming your name and all that registers is ‘oh god harder harder faster bro fuck me’ and you’re obeying his commands, obeying that which your lord tells you because you aren’t his disciple, you’re his slave, and you have no other choice.

you never had a choice.

everything turns into white, hot heat and you feel him shake and scream and you see the white seed spilling across his white skin and that seals your fate, hook line and sinker. you’re spilling into him, filling him up and moaning his name, holding him close against you and clinging to every last second of bliss before your wings were ripped off and you had to plummet down and face the consequences of your actions.

your eyes open and you see him, tired and smiling, eyes full of adoration and love and the fear in your heart dies. the war is over and you somehow pulled through, bloody and battered and beaten, and he was yours. all yours, only yours, and no one else would ever be allowed to have him. the two of you become a tangle of limbs and whispers and all you can say is his name and how much you love him and need him and how you’re so, so sorry, but he isn’t upset. he’s elated and he loves you and those words make you feel like life is worth living and you weren’t sure if you’d ever felt this way before.

he falls asleep in your arms and you in his and you think, maybe, you can finally be happy.


End file.
